


Hold on, please.

by ClockworkAttorney



Category: PewDiePie (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, it's not cancer btw, it's x disease to justify this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:23:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkAttorney/pseuds/ClockworkAttorney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate's scared but Matt's there to hold on to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold on, please.

I wake up from the makeshift bed the nurses so kindly set up for me when we arrived this morning. They were wheeling his stretcher into the room. Nate's inside a glass case. I quickly stand up from the bed and approach Dr. Fischbach.

  
"So, what now?"

  
"He'll be confused when he wakes up," the doctor says

  
I see the nurses placing him near the bed. He's not wearing anything and a blanket covers him. He's sleeping on his left side and he has an IV drip. He looks peaceful despite the large ammount of pain he just went through by himself, and tiredness of the past few months.

  
"He'll be able to leave in the morning. You can stay here if you want," I yawned

  
"Oh, yes I will. Thank you Dr. Fischbach," He nods

  
"It'll be fine Mr Patrick his chances of recovery are big, he's very brave,"

  
"I know."

 

* * *

 

Lights are turned off, it's late and I can't sleep, not after the entire ordeal. I haven't been sleeping well but he's almost done with his treatment, two more sesions and we can return to our lives. I couldn't be more hopeful. He's been in pain for so long.

  
I've been watching him the entire night from my bed, I can hear the beeping of the machine measuring his heartbeat rate. He stirs occasionaly but not too much. I also wonder if he's in pain since I see him grimace when he moves.

  
He slowly opens his eyes, it takes him a while to open them fully. He seems to adjust to the light and place he's in, then his half lidded eyes are on me. He slowly and painfully crawls near the side of the glass case in my direction, trying to pull his body in a comfortable position to lie on at the same time since he can't sit up. Then he holds his right palm (with a lot of effort) and part of his forehead to rest against the glass, his mouth slightly open. He's almost hyperventilating and I'm certain he's confused and scared.

  
I've never wanted to hug someone so _badly_ in my entire life.

  
I sit up and aproach him, placing my hand on top of his.

  
"Shh" I try to soothe him, "I'm here, buddy,"

  
I feel a lump in my throat when I see him curl up against my hand and close his eyes. He tries to breathe normaly.

 

Why did it have to be _him_ , why can't I take his place. 

  
"We'll get through this, love." I'm trying to hold back tears. I remember back when he hadn't told me how painful his therapy sesions were. He used to come back from the hospital looking tired and his eyes bloodshot, straight to our bed. I thought that it was all a side effect of the treatment aside from the physical hypersensitivity; not that it was painful.

 

How stupid of me. 

 

"I won't leave you," I tell him, sniffing a little. He's closing his eyes, trying to fight sleep.

 

I went to the hospital without his knowledge during the last of his sesions. I entered the room dedicated to it and found him sitting on a couch in the middle of a small room with an IV drip, whining in pain.  I later learned that it was less painful when lying down; and that he told the nurses he wanted to do it sitting. 

 

His hand slides down on the glass as he sleeps. "I love you Nate," I said, my voice cracking.

 

Despite the state he was in, he managed to tell me he was _just fine_ and that I _didn't need_ to see him like that.I told him he didn't need to go through that alone. In the end, I held him while he was receiving the treatment. I told the nurses we needed a stretcher so they got us one and they told me that I could lie with him to pass the time. He was on top of me, nuzzling my neck. I whispered to him as much as I could to try to distract him from the pain.

Sometimes he would gag. Sometimes he would groan. He would try to sit up (which is why anything but lying down is a horrible idea) and I would pull him back in my arms because for him It would _hurt so much_ and he _needed to move._

 

Why does he do that to himself? 

 

I go back to my bed, to try to sleep as much as I can so I can drive us home. I take one last look to Nate. Trying to remember the last time he held his guitar or wasn't too tired to do anything that required his full attention or when he could actually sleep instead of curling up against me trying to not focus on the pain.

 

He stirs one more time. 

 

We'll make it.

I know he can.

 

**Author's Note:**

> all right, so let me know what you think


End file.
